


A Brief Reprieve from the House of Insanity

by anfeltyz



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Comfort, Embarrassing Luke, F/M, Hide and Seek, Lilith's Room, Magic, No bacon, Not talking about feelings, Pancakes, Taking an angel breather, Too much crazy, Trying to take a break, slumber party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:27:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22607749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anfeltyz/pseuds/anfeltyz
Summary: This is a companion piece, written for SAValentine's 'The Seal'.Mammon and Chris need to talk about the kiss, but Mammon is... Mammon - He'll talk about anything else instead.Chris is still trying to sort through the maelstrom of emotions that her pacts have been eliciting and Asmodeus really isn't helping.But, right now, homework takes precedence.Thankfully, Luke comes to her rescue with a promise of snacks. Friday night is designated their study-party at Purgatory Hall.
Relationships: Asmodeus & Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Reader, Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Character(s), Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Beelzebub & Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Reader, Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 54





	1. 18.1 - Purgatory Hall and Snacks Ahead!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SAValentine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SAValentine/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Seal](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22205794) by [SAValentine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SAValentine/pseuds/SAValentine). 



> This is a companion piece to ‘The Seal’ by SAValentine and is written as a present for that author. It is posted with their prior consent. 
> 
> Assume that this occurs after Chapter 18 of 'The Seal'.
> 
> Please forgive any fumbles here as this is my first time writing.  
> Comments, constructive criticism, and suggestions are all warmly welcomed.

## Chapter 18.1 - Purgatory Hall and Snacks Ahead!

The last chime rang out and Chris fell into step with the crowd of demons, all making their way to their designated lockers, ready to leave RAD.

None of them jostled her, or looked at her for too long, and she realized it was because Mammon is already at her side. They hadn’t spoken about their impromptu make out session. She’d sprinted over to the door as soon as she’d heard Lucifer and closed the door behind her. 

He’d been gone by the time she returned, but she'd sent him an emoji that she knew he'd seen. In fact, she highly suspected he'd sneaked into her room the following night for cuddles. She wasn't certain, but she did always sleep better with someone else or a pet.

Beel and Levi were lazy risers and wouldn't have left before she’d woken. Asmodeus would have woken her. Satan did not sleep in her room. That left only Mammon.

Her musings were cut short, and soon enough, all eyes were on her as she folded in half. A small, angelic rocket had caught her around the middle.

“Fuck!” she said, between coughing. “You know spear tackles are generally frowned upon in school settings.” 

Mammon jerked Luke away by the scruff of his coat.

“WHAT DO YA THINK YOU’RE DOIN', CHIHUAHUA! Ya coulda killed the human!”

Luke looked appalled, his eyes wide as saucers.

“They’re fragile, ya know?” Mammon said, his volume still louder than required as he gave a little shake to the angel with each word. 

Each shake was punctuated with grunts of Luke's discomfort. He was set down roughly as Simeon arrived to investigate, standing taller than most of the crowd that was gathering. 

Mammon’s bark was not unusual, but being accompanied by Luke’s sanctimonious cries of “Unhand me, you filthy demon!” made it something worth looking in on. 

It was obvious that Simeon was having some difficulty politely breaching the murmuring crowd that had formed and Chris practically willed a hole in the throng. ‘Lucifer will not be pleased,’ Chris thought. 'Get over here and help me de-escalate!'

Before Mammon and Luke could take their bickering further, Chris, having heaved the wind back into her lungs, stepped forward and embraced Luke fully. She was sure Mammon must have steam coming out his ears, but her arm had made its way around Luke’s collar and over Mammons hand to thwart his shaking. 

Begrudgingly, he slid his hand out from between them, ready to start hollering again about being too touchy with the human.

“I’m very glad to see you too,” she said. There was laughter in her voice and over his head she winked at Simeon. She mouthed a quick “Thank-you” to Mammon to diffuse his ire further.

Mammon looked away with a muttered “whatever” while Simeon maintained his usual placid smile.

Red faced and sputtering, Luke pushed away from her and readjusted the cap she had sent askew with her bosom.

With nothing left to see, the crowd dispersed as quickly as it had come, and Simeon finally joined them.

Still flustered and attempting to talk around a fizzing hiccough he’d somehow made, Luke abruptly asked, “Would you like to join us for studying and snacks?”

The invitation was clearly extended only to Chris.

Mammon tsk’d loudly. “Why would a human wanna spend time with you when she could be with The Great Mammon?”

Chris paused, over-emphasizing her need to think for a moment. Cupping her chin and tapping her mouth with her pointer finger, she fueled Mammon's suspicion that she really did have to weigh the pros and cons.

“Come on now, human. You want ta go hang out with this shrimp, and a tall lamp, when you could be helping me make money?” Mammon asked. The way he leaned back with his hands on his hips highlighted his incredulity at the thought.

Simeon frowned in confusion at his new title. 'I supposed I do glow a little.'

Her mouth moved slightly from side to side, uncomfortable with brushing him off when they hadn't talked yet. “Well, actually, Mammon, I’m really behind in History of Devildom. I could use some help,” she said. 

“ _Pffft_. It’s not that important. One or two late assignments won’t be a problem,” said the D- student. “Besides, Mammon the Great here can tell you everything you need ta know!” 

“Oh,” Chris said innocently, “then, you won’t mind studying all of the rest of today? It’s only Friday night after all…” Briefly, she wondered whether that might be a good idea for him after all. It could give them a chance to clear the air about the other evening, and his grades could certainly use the attention.

She began to look up at him through her lashes, and he knew the puppy-eyes were about to set upon him. Mammon started backpedaling immediately.

“Actually, you know I have some real important Grimm makin' projects on the go right now that need my full attention. Couldn’t make the time ta teach you even if I wanted to,” he said, looking away from her and rubbing his hand on the back of his neck.

Well, that made the decision for her. There was no going back now. “Oh, Mammon,” Chris said, her hands clasped in front of her. “Won’t you **pleeaaase** escort me over to Purgatory Hall then? I know you’ll be able to keep me _safe,_ and Lucifer was quite upset about me going to the library alone yesterday!” She let the combination of compliment and threat settle over him.

Mammon’s eyes lit up briefly, before he sighed with feigned frustration. Whether he was fully conscious of his tsundere-like feelings or not Chris wasn’t entirely sure yet. “Ya, well. Ya should always come to The Mammon for these sorts of things,” he said, his eyes darting away from her as he felt the familiar flush warming him.

Luke looked back and forth between them, unsure whether Chris was being genuine during the exchange. He looked to Simeon for guidance, but as usual received nothing. Still, he was glad to see it going the way he wanted.

“Let’s go home quickly then, so I can change out of this stuffy uniform?” she asked, her pout turning to smile when looked to the angels. “Is there a time I should be over by?” 

“Let’s say in an hour or so,” Simeon suggested. “That should give us plenty of time to prepare some snacks. Isn’t that right, Luke?”  
  
“Oh, yes! I have a new cupcake recipe that I have been working on, and Simeon already made cookies, and I’ve been looking up human recipes that I can tweak with celestial ingredients and…” Luke said, not slowing as he continued to list possible snacks.

Chris’ eyes widened at his stream of confections, but her smile stayed in place as she met Simeon’s eyes. He hadn’t lied during their lunch, Luke really did miss her. Beelzebub would be so jealous when she told him about the sweet feast ahead of her.

“All right, all right short stuff. Enough of your yappin',” Mammon said as he strode off ahead of her. “Let’s get goin’ I got places to be.”

Chris flashed the angels an apology smile and a wave, and started after Mammon, slightly glad that Simeon hadn’t had much input in the conversation. She was still on the fence about whether he was ‘good good’, not so good and just toeing the line, or perhaps ambivalent to her altogether. He had been crafty enough to get her to lunch with Diavolo and have her spill her guts about her friendships with the boys already. 'Does that cross off ambivalent? Or is he just looking for entertainment?' she wondered.

  
  
  



	2. 18.2 - Just a Quick Stop in at the House of Insanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Chris attempts to get ready to go out and instead is waylaid by two of the brothers and is aided by two more.  
> Mammon, embarrasses Levi and is impatient to leave.

## Chapter 18.2 - Just a Quick Stop in at the House of Insanity

Mammon was filling any possible silence with his voice.

She’d tried a few times to broach the topic of their kiss, but just couldn’t get a word in edgewise.

‘Is he really this amped up about his weekend plans or is he just trying to avoid talking about it where anyone might hear?’ Chris wondered.  
  
“Hey human, are you even listenin’ ta me? This is primo information that I’m just givin’ away! You should be honoured that The Great Mammon lets you in on any of this.”

“Of course, Mammon,” Chris replied without missing a beat, “I’m just imagining it while you talk.”

Her smile placated him and he began back in on one of the many deals he intended to make. She had only missed the introductory propaganda; he hadn’t yet arrived at the meat of his ideas so she didn’t feel guilty.

They'd finished their walk to the House of Lamentation and she caught herself thinking, 'How strange that I've begun to think of this as home.' She shook her head of the thought and tried to latch back on to Mammon’s latest scheme but his words grew more hurried as he outpaced her.

Taking the front stairs three at a time, he walked through front door without her, disappearing inside with a quick shout to her over his shoulder. “I’ll meet you outside in fifteen minutes, so you’d better hurry up!”.

She pushed through the slowly closing door, but he was already out of sight. Muttering to herself about demonic speed, Chris pursed her lips as she made her way to her room. 

When she made it to the calm of her room, it was tempting to sprawl out on the bed and make him wait for her downstairs.She considered it, but emptied out her bookbag instead, trading out today’s books for her textbook and notes on Devildom History. Pausing to look at the hidden crevice in the wall, she contemplated bringing the letter with her.

‘Luke seems very strict in his ideas of good and bad though,’ she thought, drumming her fingers on her bag. ‘If it says anything he doesn’t approve of it will be known by everyone, whether he means to share it or not.’ She decided against bringing it. There was no way she’d be able to show Simeon alone even if he did prove to be a reliable confidant.

Her book bag neatly tucked next to the door, Chris opened her wardrobe to find something more comfortable than her starched uniform to wear.

Humming her approval that none of her new clothes seemed to be missing this time, she began sorting through the tags she'd created: Favourites, Uniforms, Miscellaneous. The latter always seemed to change and shuffle by some sneaky, Asmodeian magic, but thankfully he'd stopped altering things once she'd sorted them with labelled dividers.

It wasn’t too cool out so she pulled on a light dress. It seemed like a normal human dress that fell to her knees, but the fabric was very clearly from the Devildom. The way the low light hit it, it seemed to sway around her on its own. It fit like a cozy glove and she smoothed it down approvingly, zipping it most of the way up.

It was during the ritual, jigging dance-of-the-zipper-drawing that she heard Asmodeus from her doorway. “Oh my. What a delicious sight,” he said. “Here let me help you with that.”

Once again she was impressed by the speed of her host family. He had his hand on her zipper before she could blink twice. “Thank you, Asmo,” Chris said, stepping out of his range of influence as soon as he'd finished zipping. She could already feel the lustful energy coming off him in waves, but if she could avoid skin to skin contact she might actually make it downstairs before Mammon came looking for her. 

Still behind her, his hands alighted on her waist. Just the lightest touch. “I am glad to see this fits so well,” he said.

The warmth of his breath on her neck was enough for a light flush to suffuse her body. 'Can’t I get a break?' she wondered, trying to square her shoulders. “Ah, yes,” Chris said as she stepped away and turned to fix him with a reprimanding stare and wagging finger. “I spent a whole week in the gym with Beel because I thought I was getting fat, only to realize that only **some** of my clothing had miraculously cinched itself in.”

She couldn’t be too mad at him for that, but a teasing admonishment really was the best defense against Asmodeus. Diffusing the invading energy that had seeped in to her through his closeness, she breathed deeply, in and out. The way the fabric slipped over her skin was suddenly an impediment to calming herself. 'Time to step away then,' she thought. Retracting her finger before he got any clever ideas about collecting it. Motioning towards the wardrobe she said, “Thank you for not fiddling with any in the favourites section.” 

Its doors still open, Chris squinted at the favourites section again as she noticed something _off_. She shuffled the hangers over only to notice new ruching along the collar of a favourite shirt.

“Well, I suppose this one does look better like that. So, I can’t complain too much.” Her chagrined smile smoothed over any discomfort on the matter, but there was still a tightness around her eyes that warned him about future infractions.

“What has you all dressed up?” he asked, ignoring the wardrobe entirely. “It’s not often you opt for skirts when we’re not at R.A.D.”

If it weren’t Asmodeus, she’d say that was a lecherous look, but for him it was actually quite mild, only curious with a little glint of promise in his eyes. 

Every time he inched closer she found a reason to shift her weight away, humming as she looked through her newly acquired items. “I am heading out for a bit,” she said. “Will you help me get ready?”

The look in his eyes promised he would help her get ready in an entirely different manner. “Oooh where are we going? Is it formal? Semi-formal? Casual? Beach-wear only? Picnic? Are we just going with Beel to the store to stop him from bringing everything home? I can’t pick out accessories without more information, darling.” His words said he was excited to help, but the timber of his voice said he wanted to wrap his present before he tore off the paper.

“I have a study date.”

“Why would you want to go out when you could stay in with beautiful me?” he cooed to as he surveilled her bed.

“It’s a **study** date, Asmo. I need to go so Lucifer won’t get pissy about my grades. Won’t you help me look presentable in front of the angels?” she asked, transitioning easily from hard iron in her voice to soft gold. “You know, they all know you’re the one who styles me. I’m sure they’d be very disappointed if I showed up all frumpy.”

Asmodeus pouted and flopped dramatically backward onto her bed. In fact, he looked a little bit like Leviathan the way he sulked.

“Oh don’t pout. I’m sure we’ll have some sort of family game night tomorrow and you can sit right next to me,” she said with a knowing look. 'For all of his games, he's as much of a needy bitch as Mammon,' she thought, hiding the amusement that tried to lift the corners of her mouth.

'Mammon. What am I going to do about him?' she wondered, as she moved to look at options for shoes. Asmodeus didn't look appeased. ‘One erratic demon at a time. Asmodeus first.’

She was sure Asmodeus enjoyed her company, even if just for the cuddles and annoying his brothers in doing so, but he’d also never had anyone whom he couldn’t glamour into a stupor, who didn’t beg to kiss the ground his feet walked on. 'I'm not just an anomaly to him,' she thought. 'I'm a challenge, something he is being denied. I wonder if he's ever been denied?' 

Watching Beel when he had to wait even a short time to eat, was never pretty and it made her wonder further. ‘How is Asmo managing to only prowl and tease?’ She hummed and hawed over which shoe to pair with the dress. 'Usually he is interrupted by someone else,' she thought, 'And yet here I am without a chaperone, while he knows exactly how weak I am to him. Maybe he likes to torture himself?'

“Simeon and Luke are a bore, why should I care what either of them think?” Asmodeus ask, kicking his legs as they dangled over the edge of her bed.

Now it was her turn to pout. This is not how she had expected today to go at all. “Hmm. Well, I guess you don’t want to hear what Simeon said about you during lunch with Diavalo then...” she said, the cunning obvious in her words as she trailed off and worked her hairbrush through her locks.

No longer reclining sensuously on her bedspread, he sat up at her words as if he’d been jolted upright. 

'Oh his vanity. There couldn’t be an avatar of vanity because all of the brothers share the trait so evenly between them,' she thought, deciding it was the one thing she could appeal to in order to even the playing field.

“Do go on,” he said as he took the brush from her hands.

She breathed carefully, practicing letting the lust flow out of her as quickly as it immersed her in its haze.

“Well, a certain angel **may** have said that he still sees you the same as you were when you were all in the Celestial Realm,” she said, pausing for effect. “But I suspect he was downplaying how beautiful he thinks you are. I mean, he couldn’t go telling Diavalo that you’d become even more lovely, he would just embarrass himself. Do you think he’s jealous?”

Her rambling seemed to have had the desired effect; he hummed his approval of her words as he held the brush in his mouth and fiddled with the ties in her hair. Removing the brush, he continued his assessment, “It only makes sense. Simeon can be quite stylish when he wants to be, but no one can compare to me.” 

Chris loved the musical quality Asmodeus' voice took on when he was happy.

“There we are. A casual half up and half down,” he said, gently spinning her around to view his work from all angles. She was met with an appraising look and a 'hmm', before he removed the ribbon from his uniform collar, and fixed it somewhere within his casual masterpiece. “There! Perfect,” he said, before clapping his hands. “Now, shoes, makeup, accessories, stockings?” His eyebrows rose minutely as he licked his lower lip. “I could happily help you in to some stockings, you know.” He tilted his head to the side, looking through her. "We'd have to keep you in here though. If Levi accidentally saw you he might die of a heart attack."   
  
She smiled while he laughed at his joke, but declined with a knowing look and a shake of her head. “No heels, please?” she said instead. “I have to keep up with my grumpy, escort, Mammon. You wouldn’t want him to have to carry me would you?”

The curl of his lips told her that he would happily instigate such a thing. After all, hadn’t he sent her to bed during the retreat, his power curling and hidden stealthily in her veins, in the hopes she’d sleep with Satan or Lucifer?

“Dark blue ones. Fourth shelf down, third from the left,” he said, sashaying into her bathroom.

Chris made her way over to one of her bookshelves. She’d noticed it had appeared after their third shopping trip together, and it had not held a single book. All shoes.

Pulling out the designated shoes, she was happy to see that they were very sensible, but still pretty enough to meet Asmodeus’ standards. She slid in to them, noticing something different right away and wiggled and flexed her toes. 'There are cushions in them?' she wondered. Inspecting a few of the other shoes, each of them had different sized impact cushions in them: in the toes, in the heels, some along ridged edges. They all seemed to have been trimmed to meet the shape and weight distribution of each shoe type.

Smiling softly to herself, Chris slowly put the other shoes away. Asmodeus may be a giant lust bunny, but he definitely found ways to show that he cared about her. He wasn’t just dolling her up to be a reflection of his skills, he cared about her comfort too.

She turned back to the bed and collected her D.D.D.

 **Chris:** Beel, would you mind coming to fetch me in about five minutes?

 **Beel:** ???

 **Chris:** Asmo is helping me get ready to go out.

 **Beel:** *Saluting Demoji*

She clip-clopped to the door and tucked her D.D.D. safely into her book bag. Staring at the bag, she quickly scurried away, collecting a pair of clean underpants and rushed back to secure them safely in the bag as well. 'Better safe than sorry with Asmodeus,' she thought.

Following Asmodeus’ calls back into the bathroom he made quick work of her natural makeup.

“Why waterproof?” she asked, motioning to the mascara wand in his hand.

“In case you fuck Solomon so hard you cry,” he said with glee.

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes and tilt her head to the side for the full teenager effect.

“Don’t mind if I do,” she heard from far away.

His hands were behind her knees and somehow she’d been sat up on the bathroom counter top. Then his nails gently dragged along the underside of her thighs.

She’d bared her neck, she realized fuzzily. All she could feel was her own pulse and his teeth on the lobe of her ear as he whispered to her how much fun they would have undressing her. How maybe it wasn't Solomon, but him she actually wanted to make her come until she cried? Over and over again.

Her breathing was coming faster, billowing air into the fire of want the longer he touched her. She wanted to curl herself around him, press herself against every surface of him that she could reach. When had she glued herself to his chest? When had she wrapped her legs around his waist? Every tiny movement between them was a new wave of lust.

“A-A-Accessories,” she said, stammering as his hands grew bolder.

He lifted her gently down and patted her head while she blinked stupidly up at him.

“I’m always telling Beel that presentation is an important part of a meal,” he said, tutting to himself, as he led her by the hand back into her room. Sitting her this time on the edge of the bed, he set to sifting through the shiny collection he’d created for her near the window.

'Breathe. Breathe. Breathe,' she thought, concentrating on centering herself. The fire and the tingling, the haze over her eyes, and the wooliness of sound created by her thudding heart beat all began to slowly relent. It was the same as when Mammon had interrupted her and Asmodeus after her dream, when she felt Asmodeus' power draining out of her. More quickly than she had expected, she could think clearly again. 

A sharp rap at the door behind her, and Beelzebub opened it without asking. "I'm going to the store, is there anything you want?" he asked, assessing her predicament.

Amodeus looked up but he barely registered Beelzebub’s existence before turning back to the task at hand.

Rising on slightly unsteady feet, Chris began to make her way past the bed and to the door. 

"Ah ah ah, where do you think you're off to, little human?" Asmodeus asked, amusement and something smoky and dark curling throughout his words. He had lunged across the bed to secure her wrist in his grasp. "You're still missing the icing on the cake." 

Chris willed her knees to stay strong as he drew her knuckles to his lips. "You know I have a name, Asmo," she struggled to say as he buffeted her with his power. She couldn't see Beelzebub, but in the back of her mind she hoped he was still there. She didn't need his rescue, hell her body certainly didn't want his rescue, but it would be gratefully accepted all the same. 'That's why I called him, isn't it?'

Her legs hit the edge of the bed again, the bed where Asmo had found her, writhing in his power, calling to him after Belphegor had just dream-fucked her mouth. The thought brought a new surge of need to the fore.

"Oooh. I felt that," Asmodeus said, slidding his other hand slowly up her arm, reeling her in.

'Is he looking past me to make eye contact with Beelzebub?' she wondered, a vein of annoyance intruding on the lust, as he slowly closed the distance between their bodies.

He cupped her cheek and angled her head for a kiss.

Faintly, she could tell Beelzebub was coming closer, saying something.

With only the shakiest of breathes, Chris managed to whisper, her lips brushing electric against Asmodeus’ mouth, "Up against the wall."

And then he was gone from her.

The avatar of gluttony caught her before her knees gave out.

When she had her breathing under control again he released. His hunger was something to focus on as the tendrils Asmodeus had wrapped her in melted and fell away, but it was so much easier to think without both of them influencing her.

Chris raised her eyes to find Asmodeus facing the wall like a naughty child. 'Did I use the pact to put him in time out?' she wondered, looking down and back to him. 'I didn't really feel anything. Shouldn’t there have been something?' It certainly hadn't had the desired effect because she could hear him calling to her still.

"Oh, my dear, sweet, little human, had I known this is how you wished to play I would have curated a very different outfit."

She walked closer to him. Fuck. She was so needy. She swallowed hard and resisted the urge to touch herself. He probably didn't even need to touch her to get her to come at this point.

"Asmo," Chris said wearily, “while I appreciate your…zeal. You know I have places to be _and_ that I do not wish to get involved with anyone. You need to be better behaved.” Her shoulders sagged as she watched him wiggle his hips against the wall. Clearly, he only heard ‘I appreciate your zeal’.

Turning and walking away, she gestured her hand tiredly to Beelzebub to leave Asmodeus pressed against the wall.

Beelzebub walked ahead of her, and waited out in the hall as she picked up her bag at the door.

'Such long, strong legs. He must’ve only taken a few strides,' she thought. She could feel her mouth salivate. She could imagine her hands gliding over the contours of them, reclining backward and gripping his legs as she rode him. Slapping her cheeks lightly she chided herself, 'Snap out of it, woman. UGH! I should leave Asmo there all evening to think about his actions!'

A pitiful whine from behind them stalled her step over the threshold. It's tone had her briefly reconsidering.

“Oh my sweet, Little Mistress,” she heard Asmodeus purr. Her heart sped up as if it were trying to beat a new tattoo onto her chest from the inside. 'I didn't specified how long he had to stay put!'

Before she could turn around to confirm why his voice sounded so near, her world was a blur.

It took her time to realize that Beelzebub had scooped her up in one arm and taken off at a dash.

She’d never considered herself a particularly petite woman, but being carried like this, her ass cradled in the crook of Beelzebub’s arm was giving her second thoughts on the matter. Her face snuggled into the curve of his neck as he rounded corners and passed through doorways fast enough to give any human whiplash. 

'Why does he have to smell so good? Did he eat sweets recently?' she wondered, keeping her hands to herself. 'How does he make vanilla icing smell manly?' She strained not to lick him. 'What if it's from some sort of demon food he'd had recently, like scorpion cupcakes or poison apple juice?' she wondered, trying to reason herself out of taking Beelzebub back to her room for very, very impure activities. 'Wouldn’t it only burn my lips a little bit until I could taste his salty skin underneath?'

Beel had to re-adjust his hold on her to keep her from falling, and she tensed and shuddered conspicuously in his grasp.

Asmodeus could be heard shouting petulantly nearby. 

'This can't be just my lust alone. How far does Asmo's tether reach? Spirits above and below, I need to get laid soon or I might die by implosion!'

Her hair covered her face after a particularly sharp turn, after which she heard a door slam, and then felt a jostle. A more delicate clatter of wood near her, the absence of light, and then a soft light filtered through the hair over her right eye. Still partially hiding the left side of her face in the curve of Beelzebub’s shoulder she slowly realized they had come to a stop.

'We must’ve doubled round multiple times,' she thought. They'd burst into the twin’s room, through the wardrobe, and into the safety of Lilith’s hidden room. The revelation didn't help calm her. It was difficult, feeling her ragged breathing only made her want to match its pace with something else. Asmodeus had re-stoked the burning desire in her with nothing more than closeness and words, and the skin-to-skin proximity to Beelzebub was only echoing it with his gnawing hunger.

Beelzebub shifted away from the wall and Chris let out a hiss at the friction it created as his arm jostled her perch again. It was impossible to look at her; she was tucked so well under his chin that there was no way to know if he’d accidentally hurt her during their flight. Moving to kneel down and release her, she gasped and turned in his arm, clutching him to her harder.

“Please don’t move,” she said breathlessly. “Not just yet.”

He stilled completely, remaining on one knee. His only movement was the steady rise and fall of his chest. 

“I, um… Asmo riled me up a little and I just need a moment to…um,” she said. Usually, she wasn't lost for words, but fuck, right now she was doing her best not to lave his collarbone with her tongue until he moaned her name.

“Ah, that happens sometimes,” Beel said with a serenity she didn’t share. 

He tried not to move at all, and he felt rather than saw that Chris’ knee length dress had ridden up further than he’d meant to allow. There was no way for him to look away or unfeel her. So, he remained motionless as he blushed painfully.

Partially turned inward now, her chest skimmed his while they both tried to tame their breathing. Chris was trying hard to drain herself of the overwhelming flow of sin that had taken up residence in her bones. It's presence was coursing through her in rebellious waves. 'If I give in for a second, wouldn’t it be so much better?' she wondered, the temptation practically sighing promised relief through her body. 'No, this is just a double whammy. I can make it through this!'

Beelzebub's eyes stared carefully up at the ceiling, counting each tile or decoration he could see. He tried not to think about where his hand lay. She’d squirmed more than he’d expected and it had left him gripping the juncture of her thigh and ass.

Watching the blush that trailed down his neck, she called to him, “Beel?” Her voice keened his name so quietly, so sweetly, that the sound was raw and needy even to her ears. 'Maybe I should ask him to drop me to break the connection. Quick like a bandaid! Can he drop me faster than I can climb him?' 

She heard a long drawn out exhalation above her and then Beelzebub was rubbing soothing circles on her back.

And, nothing. 

'Nothing?' she wondered. She felt the waves of lust receding slowly at first, and then faster as her breathing became more regular. She didn’t quite understand it, but she was relieved nonetheless. 

Letting out a less shaky breath, Chris pulled back some of the curtain from her eyes. She let her legs dangle and Beel eased her feet under her to the floor.

When he was sure her legs weren’t going to collapse under her like a fawn, he let her go completely, the hem of the dress dropping to cover her.

‘Ugh, I refuse to be embarrassed by this,’ she thought, even if she did suddenly understand how Satan’s kitten felt: mewing and clawing up his pant leg to be picked her up and petted his arms.

She sat down and leant her back against the wall instead of smothering him with her neediness, meeting his eyes for the first time since they'd run. “Thanks,” she said.

Sitting down next to her, they relaxed, neither looking at the other, only straight ahead into the room cloaked in dust covers.

“You manage to get into a lot of trouble for someone so small,” he said.

She was going to make a retort when his stomach protested loudly that it was well past his snack time. Reaching her closest hand over she rubbed his belly absentmindedly. Both of them continued looking forward.

“I didn’t expect going to study with Luke and Simeon would cause this much fuss,” she said, her laughter tired and worn. In her periphery, she watched him nod in agreement. 'He seems to have taken this in stride, she thought. At least, she couldn’t deduce any judgement from his body language. It allowed her to relax further.

Withdrawing her hand from Beelzebub's stomach when the gurgling stopped, and he looked like he was going to say something as he looked down to where he hand had been.

“Want to play a game of keep-away with Asmodeus?” she asked, trying to break her growing unease over the way his mouth continued to open, starting and restarting to say something. “I still have to make it outside.”

His shoulders sagged momentarily and he dipped his head forward. 

She knew he’d gone to a lot of trouble outmaneuvering his older brother, but she didn’t expect his defeated posture. Had she worn out the sweet giant’s patience already?

His shoulders shaking was the first indicator that he was, in fact, laughing at her.

When she shoved at him playfully he burst out laughing, tilting his head back against the wall and squeezing his eyes shut.

  
  
  



	3. 18.3 - Keep Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Chris is as stealthy as she can be and attempts to make it safely outside without being caught again by Asmodeus.

## Chapter 18.3 - Keep Away

“Hard left,” she called out. “Quick, down the stairs!”

Chris felt like she was flying. As Beel bounded up and down staircases, through long hallways, sometimes hopping over railings, she giggled and shrieked freely, and then dramatically tried to stifle the sounds.

This was the first time she’d felt truly relaxed. Sure she’d had fun and good company with all of the demons in the House of Lamentation, but somehow this ridiculous game of keep-away was the most fun she’d had since she'd arrived here.

They hid quietly in alcoves and waited to hear Asmodeus pass by as he grumbled and groused to himself, occasionally calling to Chris with a new pet name.

On the last leg of their stealthy retreat, she whispered in Beelzebub’s ear, “To the common room.”

They skulked their way to the closed double doors where he paused, listening for any hint of Asmodeus.

Chris wiggled to be let down and he obliged, letting her take her book bag back from him. “I think I can take it from here,” she said, “if you can run interference and lead him away to the kitchen?”

Beelzebub frowned at her.

'Apparently he thinks splitting up is a poor choice,' she thought. 'Likely because I'm so slow in comparison.' She patted his shoulder affectionately. “It’ll be fine.” 

Standing there with arms crossed he raised an eyebrow and didn't budge from his position between her and the doors.

“I promise to bring you home something that Luke has baked?” she asked, her shoulders rising as she looked up at him with doe-eyes.

His other eyebrow rose up to match up the other, this time in intense interest.

“Okay,” she said, as he stepped away. Without waiting for a verbal response, she turned to put her hand on the door knob knowing he had already taken off to distract Asmodeus.

Asmodeus' sing-song voice echoed around the hall and she tensed. “Come out, come out wherever you are, my Little Mistress.”

He was so much nearer than she expected, and very far from the kitchen. Bolting into the common room, Chris nearly smash face first into Satan’s midsection. She put out a hand, and by the grace of some saintly spirit or other, she managed not to ram into him. Her palm slid around his waist as a guide, and using her inertia she followed through, spinning around Satan to hide behind him.

“Please don’t move,” she said, her voice a desperate whisper. “Let me hide here for now.”

Satan opened his book to the same position it had been in front of his face when she barged in.

'Was he walking and reading at the same time?' she wondered.

Their impromptu dance had pivoted Satan to one side. It left Chris hidden behind him with the wall to her right and a bookshelf to her back. ‘Very little room for error here’ she thought as she squeezed her bookbag between the small of her back and the shelving unit. Having it dangling out past Satan’s frame would be a dead giveaway. 

She heard the door she’d left ajar swing fully open just as Satan decided to lean into the wall, blocking her from view.

“Asmo, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Satan asked.

She was sure he had his most polite smile on, but his voice dripped with heavy notes of disdain.

“Have you seen our delectable human classmate by any chance?” Asmo asked, toying with his fingers as his eyes scanned the room.

She tried to breathe as slowly as possible to make her respiration silent.

“No,” Satan said without pause, not lowering his book even to make eye contact. “I doubt I’d be as happy to talk to you if you were the third person to interrupt my reading. Mammon was more than enough.”

Chris could hear the pout in Asmodeus’ voice as he fussed. She was surprised he didn’t stomp his foot before he left and closed the door behind him.

A sigh of relief rushed out of her and she rested her head against the wall.

“Sorry to intrude,” she said. “Beel was supposed to do a better job at intercepting him.”

“Well, let’s get you out of the house before he returns,” Satan said. ‘And out of my hair’ was the unspoken current beneath his words.

She released the back of his coat once she realized she’d been holding it in her fists like a child.

“I’ve already had to listen to Mammon whine about this study session and I would like to finish this book without having to commit fratricide today,” he said, once he was able to turn without taking her with him.

'Not as irritated with me as I expected,' she thought, slightly proud of that accidental accomplishment.

He herded her gently ahead of him and she could tell that some underlying agitation remained. She could feel it while being so near, but it was nothing compared to his ire when Asmodeus had opened the doors. 

Arriving at the second to last set of doors between her and freedom, Satan reached past her to turn the doorknob before she could.

Her knees pressed together and her entire spine straightened when she heard the first set of doors burst open again behind them.

“Satan, I know you must be hiding her in here! I’ve looked everywhere else and Beel is alone in the kitchen!”

Still blocking the sight of her with his body, Satan shooed her through the door with a gentle nudge of his hand to the small of her back.

He turned in one fluid motion, book still in one hand while closing the door behind her. 

Her eyes widened in alarm when she realized she had heard the door and the book snap closed at the same time.

'Nearly there!' She was running now. 'I need to get as far away from that bomb of emotions in the common room as possible.'

Halfway down the entry hall and she froze.

There was Leviathan. Dark, branched, coral-like horns that curl upwards, diamond markings visible on his neck and his serpentine tail dragging behind him. She could hear the 'shuuuush' of it sliding across the polished floor. 'Is he supposed to be…what was it “manifesting”? What ever is going on is adorable though.'

Dressed in a cute animal onesie, he was completely oblivious to her. He shuffled to the main staircase, never taking his eyes from the portable console that he was tapping away on.

'He must've gone to the kitchen,' she thought as she watched him briefly wipe something from his mouth. 'Well, he doesn’t look like he did during the trivial challenge, so I'm probably not in danger of being torn apart. No, Levi and I are past that.' It had still startled her and more than a little aroused her. 'Damn it. Asmo likely felt that.'

Scampering out the front door and down the stone steps she breathed a sigh of relief.

The click of the front door drew Levi's attention and he looked around suspiciously, but saw and heard nothing.

“BOUT TIME, HUMAN!” said Mammon, his frustration clear enough that Leviathan could hear him through the door.

He could feel his entire body turning red with mortification. 'She saw!'

Outside, Chris paused to pull her D.D.D. out of her bag and Mammon scooped it up before she could sling it back on her shoulder. 'Oh powers that be. I didn't close it. Pleeease don't let my underwear fall out,' she thought.

“What?” he asked, spitting the question in reply to her look. “Quit yer lollygaggin’ and let’s get goin’. Got places to be. Can’t have you weighed down with this, weak as you are, you’ll slow us down even more.”

She couldn’t be bothered to argue after the insanity she’d just managed to escape. “Thanks very much. I appreciate it,” she said.

He mumbled something else about ‘of course’ and ‘the great Mammon’, but she had momentarily tuned him out in favour of messaging Beelzebub to let him know she had made it outside.

'Likely he’ll be pleased to skip the human-edible dishes tonight,' she thought as she reminded him she'd be skipping supper. 'One less picky eater while he's on supper duty.'

A demoji of a cupcake sent to her three times was his response.

'Of course,' she thought. 'He'd never let me forget.' While she still half listening to Mammon’s newest description of his evening plans, she typed that she’d see how many she could bring home. 

“Where’s your jacket?” Mammon asked.

“Asmodeus,” she said, with a shrug of her shoulders, as if that explained everything.

The expected torrent of warnings about Asmodeus spewed forth as she’d expected.

"Have you ever noticed that Levi's horns have purple highlights?' she asked him after a time, just to throw him off his spiel. It worked and he verbally flailed, failing to make full sentences again until they arrived at Purgatory Hall.

It was too hard not to tease him like that.


	4. 18.4 - That Idiot!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mammon escorts Chris to Purgatory Hall.

## Chapter 18.4 - That Idiot!

It was a bit difficult to decipher, around all the claims of demon supremacy, but it was interesting to learn that all of the demons she’d met could control to some degree how they appeared.

“Our true forms would melt your puny human mind!” Mammon said, practically crowing. 

‘He might have a point,’ she thought. She could barely look Diavolo in the eyes at lunch while images of his “demon-lite”, as she’d dubbed it, floated through her mind. If that was brain melting, she couldn’t quite disagree that more of him might actually render her mind into gelatinous goo.

She tamped down the resentfulness she felt welling up that her demon roommates could just shift from one sexy form to another while here she was stuck in one that she didn’t always appreciate as she should. 

‘Can Levi feel that from here?’ she wondered, ‘The pact doesn’t seem to affect them the same way as it does me. Asmo certainly didn’t get weak at the knees when I was in the bath last week.’ Chris imagined Levi’s tail flicking in agitation all the same.

They drew up to the gates in front of Purgatory Hall. Well, he’d managed to do it. Mammon had managed to not talk about his feelings, by way of talking about anything and everything else, the whole way there. Not that she had made the greatest attempts at it either after the chaos of the last hour or so.

“Mammon...” Chris said, pausing in front of the wrought iron gates. They really should get this out in the open.

Immediately, he pushed the gates open, only pausing when she didn’t promptly follow. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her forward as if she'd forgotten their destination. He wouldn’t look at her, or give her the chance to talk about it, but she could feel the greed coursing through his hand into her.

Her eyes were on him as he continued to tug her dazed form towards the wide front steps. 

'He knows I'm staring at him!' she thought. ;This is the same feeling that had rushed through me previously. It matched perfectly.' _All your attention on me. Only me!_ it shouted to her.

Up the short flight of stairs they went, and he banged his fist on the door. No polite rap, or the use of a knocker, for Mammon. No, he had to strike the door like he was spearheading a police raid. 

After a few moments, the door swung open to reveal the angelic duo. 'No Solomon,' she noted with relief. Though perhaps she’d look at contacting him about the letter some time tomorrow.

Mammon dropped her hand. “Quit clingin’, human,” he said. “I know it’s an honor to be escorted by yours truly, but you gotta have some decorum...”

The last of his sentence trailed off in a mutter, losing all of its steam as Chris fixed him with a very polite smile. The crinkle of her eyes was much too reminiscent of the look Satan gave him before something terrible happened.

Simeon observed them, cool as a cucumber, his smile conveying openness, but she could tell he was inwardly laughing at the three ring circus that had suddenly appeared on his stoop.

Luke, to his credit, had managed not to rush to her immediately and knock the stuffing out of either of them: her by accidental affection, and Mammon by his sheer rocket power. He did rush over, however, once he saw her demeanor change.

‘By all rights, she should be livid with Mammon,’ Luke thought, ‘So, why is she smiling? And why is Mammon shrinking away?’ He’d had enough of the confusion and put himself between them. His elbow almost touched their joined hands as he turned his full attention to Chris, and his back to Mammon. Without a second glance, he put his hand over hers and began to lead her inside.

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” Mammon said, his protest echoing off the wall of the dormitory. He released her hand and quickly tried to recover. “Make sure the human doesn’t die,” he said, stumbling for some authority. “They’re fragile: they get too hot, and too cold, moving too fast can injure them," he said, counting off on his fingers. You moving or them,” he specified. “They’re clumsy, they need lots of rest and air, and they can’t eat most of the things in Devildom…” He continued on even after he had begun to re-use fingers. “Don’t let her outside alone, she’ll get eaten for sure!” he said, finishing with an accusatory pointing of his finger at them. 

Luke was nodded vigorously, looking alarmed at all of the new information he had to absorb to care for the human during their short study session. 

“We’ll take very good care of her, Mammon,” Simeon said, his promised tainted with only the faintest trace of humour.

“Whatever,” Mammon said loudly, “It’s not like I care. I just don’t want Lucifer to devour all of us slowly over the course of a few hundred years if we lose her.”

Luke pulled her over the threshold and she walked past him. No one saw her expression harden.

‘That idiot!’ she thought, and this time she didn’t mean it in the soft, cuddly way she usually used it.

“Just have her ready to go by ten thirty,” he said, waving a hand over his shoulder. “Need to have her back by curfew.”

With that he sauntered off.


	5. 18.5 - Say Blaaasphemyyyyyy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Chris sends Beelzebub pictures of the mountain of food as well as a selfie to Lucifer as per their tradition.  
> Studying is boring but much more efficient in Purgatory Hall.

## 18.5 - Say Blaaasphemyyyyyy

Chris was getting used to ricochetting between emotions and everything scrambled in between lately, but entering the kitchen of Purgatory Hall, there was nothing but awe and delight in her.

SO MUCH. FOOD.

‘This must be what heaven smells like,’ she thought.

She had offered to help carry up all of the “experiments” Luke had made for the occasion, but after the first trip down the hall and up the stairs to his room she gave up and sat down on the bed, shaking her head.

In her single trip, she had been lapped multiple times by both Simeon and Luke, until she felt very much like the toddler “helping” their parents with a chore.

“Ooh! Wait!” she said before Simeon could reach for one of his own cookies, “I want to take a picture of your masterpiece before we enjoy it.”

‘Her smile is so sweet,’ Luke thought, ‘and she thinks my baking is masterful!’

If only he knew she was taking that picture to send to Beelzebub he wouldn’t be wondering once again if she were actually an angel in disguise.

She hit send and half expected Beelzebub to burst through the front door to raid them. Instead, she was touched to receive a message from him letting her know that he’d still made her a “safe” pizza. 

He’d put it in her room, but the following message let her know that if she took too long to come home then he couldn’t promise it would still be there when she arrived. She stifled her guffaw at his predictability and sent him the three legged demoji giving him the thumbs up.

'I wonder if that's the Beelzebub version of extortion? Come home soon or I'll eat the pizza I made especially for you.'

She excused herself briefly to use the toilet before she made herself cozy on the bed again. 

‘Did angels and demons need to use toilets?’ she wondered. ‘Leviathan does have a bathtub.’

She had brought her bag with her and was pleased that it went unmentioned. 'They probably think it's my time of the month or something. Oh well, it was mentioned in the old testament and likely their Human Studies class. I'm not going to sweat it. Better they think that than what I'm actually doing.'

She swapped out her panties for a new pair and returned for some hard core studying, and at least a few hours of dry undergarments.

The homework was fairly straight forward. There was just so much of it. 

But, it was a hundred times easier to concentrate here. Sure, when she was in class, and could only feel the general static of her classmates, it was manageable, but at home, it was chaos. Unfortunately, that didn't save her from difficult memorization. 'How is anyone supposed to remember that the third great insurrection was propagated almost entirely by “fate” demons but the first, second, and seventh were spectra and drudes in varying degrees?' she wondered. 'Why is there no mention of the fourth, fifth, and sixth?'

She’d messaged Satan yesterday to ask him how exactly demons were identified as belonging to certain factions. She had **hoped** for an answer along the lines of haircuts, like the English roundheads, or “they have three talons on each appendage.” No such luck.

“...clustering subjects into groups based on observed behavior in the real-effort task reveals important systematic differences in individual characteristics across groups. However, while we find more differences, these differences are not systematic and difficult to interpret…” was only a portion of his explanation. She wasn’t willing to ask him to dumb it down for her.

How could she possibly be expected to remember these intangible things while spending most of her time dealing with the influence of the pacts, or even just dealing with being a kidnapped human in Devildom?

'Maybe I should take Lucifer up on his offer to hide in his room while he does paperwork. He doesn’t affect me nearly as strongly.' She mulled it over. Rest **ful** ness without Beelzebub’s hand to hold in case of nightmares or rest **less** sleep sandwiched between envy and greed. 

Neither were perfect answers. The thought of Lucifer waking her from a nightmare contained equal parts embarrassment and comfort. He was strict, but Diavolo had decided she should be happy during her stay. Well, as happy as Stockholm syndrome could make someone. Lucifer probably wouldn’t hold it over her forever.

She breathed deeply and relaxed her shoulders and jaw. It was beautifully simple to shake away those thoughts with the calm aura of the angels filling the room. The only thing that took her attention away from her notes and listening to angelic answers to her history questions was being regularly bombarded with new tasties.

Not certain where to start, they had begun with the foods that held the greatest proportion of human-edible ingredients.

She’d laughed at Luke when he called them “human ingredients.” He didn’t catch on right away and Simeon chimed in, over his own textbook, that Chris was informing him that she was not a cannibal.

The utter look of horror on his face! Oh the poor dear. She squished his cheeks between her hands and gave him a tiny shake, or as much as she could shake a super-powered angel, even one of his stature. “We’re only teasing,” she said, and popped his proffered item in her mouth.

She had thought it was just a decorative fruit from the plate, but oh was she wrong! It was a meat? They proceeded slowly, going through each new snack, with Luke blithely telling her each tweak he’d been making to the recipes. However, she began to suspect they were feeding her every time she solved a task, or correctly answered a practice question.

'Clever. I may have to use that for Beel. He did say he wanted to improve his grades to win buffet tickets,' she thought, tapping her pencil and bouncing it off her of chin. 'Then again, if I have to learn how to prepare the tail and eyeballs of a Shadow Hog, maybe not.'

“Luke?” she asked as he passed her what looked like some sort of milkshake, “would it be alright with you if I brought home three cupcakes for Beelzebub? He won’t stop talking about how amazing your cake was and always makes himself hungry again.”

Hands behind his back, he rocked up on to his toes.“Nope!” he said with animated cheerfulness. 

“Oh…Okay then,” Chris said. She’d have to find something else for Beel this weekend. 'He'll be disappointed but no big deal.'

Luke took in her polite response and his smile became even wider. His hands sprang out and away from his sides. “Because we already packed him a basket!”

Chris’ face lit up to almost match his, and she laughed. “I’ve been tricked!” she said, proclaiming her foolishness with the same gusto Luke had had.

These were the types of jokes he liked best. Everyone understood them and they were never really at anyone’s expense. “We left it downstairs though because it’s quite large. Yours is just under my writing desk there,” Luke said, pointing next to Simeon, who was using the desk as a balance for his tilted chair.

Simeon gave a little wave towards the basket behind him, down and to his left. She realized they’d been tucking away the ones she’d shown the most approval for and felt her heart soften just a little more. 

“So that’s why. And here I thought Simeon was just a very serious midnight snacker.”

The smiles were contagious and soon even Simeon couldn’t hold out from giving a real smile.

“Would you like the window open?” he asked, close enough to open it in his precariously balanced and reclined state.

She touched her cheeks to see that they were indeed quite flushed. The fireplace they had stoked, clearly for her comfort and not theirs, had heated the room thoroughly.

Nodding her assent, Chris wrapped her hands around the new beverage, and Simeon leant even further back to open the window and accommodate her. His tall, dark frame was lissom and graceful as he stretched out.

She looked away and tamped down her treacherous brain’s train of thought before it could fully surface, sipping her drink with intensity as she turned back to Luke. ‘Marshmallow? Can a drink even be made of a marshmallow base? But it's cold? Wait, has Luke been miming behind me to Simeon the whole time?' she wondered. 'Fucking Mammon and his rules for human care 101!’  
  
“Is that lavender and bergamot?” she asked instead of commenting on their human care.

Luke looked terribly conflicted. “I can’t tell you. It’s the only recipe that Barbatos forbade me from sharing.”

She looked down at the drink in her hand and then back up. “Some sort of magic marshmallow?”

His eyes were wide once again and he was looking anywhere but at her.

“Hmm” she said, knowingly. “Well, I suppose a secret is a secret, but this might be one of my favourites so far.”

The alarm on her D.D.D. bleeped at her. Ten twenty-five. “Mammon should be here shortly,” she said. “I’m just going to message him to make sure he’s already on his way.”  
  
They knew Mammon, and how easily he became caught up in any scheme or adventure, and didn’t question it.

“‘The blood in our veins is warm enough to fecundate the soil of the Republic’ he cried before falling upon the...” she said, droning to herself, trying not to nod off. Ten forty ticked by and she still hadn’t received a response. She closed up her text book. No point in doing more readings if her brain wasn’t absorbing it any more. 'Where is he?' she wondered.

The D.D.D. rang and Mammon’s picture bloomed on the screen.

Luke could see the storm clouds brewing in her expression and he looked back at Simeon who had tipped forward on his chair, seemingly just as interested.

“I see,” was all she said before more noise came from the D.D.D., but it was clear she was no longer listening as she looked at the ceiling. “Uh huh. Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you at home then.” Her shoulders fell a few inches as she hung up and dropped the D.D.D. on the bed next to her.

“Well, it appears my escort will not be appearing.”

“We would be happy to escort you home,” Simeon said, rising from his chair.

“No! Stay!” Luke said, his hands outstretched as if placating a snarling beast and not a downtrodden human.

They both looked to him and his unexpected outburst.

“A slumber party. We learned about them in Human Studies. We should have a slumber party!” Luke said, this time trying not to exclaim too loudly in his excitement.

Chris looked to Simeon.

“I don’t see why not,” he said, raising his palms upward and giving a small shrug.

“Well, alright then,” she said, standing up with a confidence she hadn’t expected. It was hard to stay glum or angry when they were there practically resonating serenity. “Time for a selfie then,” she said, and now it was Simeon’s turn to grin. 

“Say Cheeeese!” she said while Simeon held out the phone with his longer arms, Luke and Chris squished in between them. Clearly, Simeon remembered Diavolo doing the same with them yesterday.

“Perfect,” she said, and sent the picture to Lucifer, Leviathan, Beelzebub, and Asmodeus. 

* * *

**1356 Chat (5):**

**MC:** Angel slumber party tonight! See you all after breakfast!

* * *

‘Say Blasphemyyyyyy’, she’d been tempted to shout, but the aghast looks Simeon and Luke would have made in the photo could have brought Lucifer directly over to accompany her home.

She neglected to mention to Lucifer that Mammon had left her, away from the House of Lamentation, easy prey to be swayed by any crafty angels who might want to plot against the Devildom, and that instead he was likely partying with witches who were bleeding him dry of Grimm. Lucifer likely would find out some way or another.


	6. 18.6 - Little Lamb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to grill the angels for information.
> 
> Who knew humans could jump that high?

## Chapter 18.6 - Little Lamb

It occurred to Chris that this was an excellent opportunity to gain some information that she’d had a hard time asking. 

“So,” she kicked off, her books now safely stowed away and a 'heavenly potato chip' in her hand, “is the Greek pantheon real? They haven’t really addressed that in class.”

Simeon brought a platter of, well, Chris wasn’t really sure what to call most of them, food items, and placed them on the floor.

'This must be a common practice between them,' she thought, watching as Luke readily sat down cross-legged on the carpet.

Chris flopped down next to the fireplace. The room was cooler now and she had no sweater to compensate. Instead, she stretched out and let the fire warm her back as she waited for an explanation, letting her gaze roam around the green room.

“Well, little lamb, they exist, but not as true deities,” Simeon explained.

Chris sputtered around her cake for a moment. “Little what now?” she asked, croaking as she blinked away the excess water in her eyes.

“Hmm,” he said, bringing his gloved hand to his lips, tapping them in thought. “During my time in the human realm, which truthfully was quite some time ago, I do recall humans giving pet names to one another to indicate friendship. Is this no longer the case?”

“Ah, yes. It is...I guess, I just wasn’t expecting you to know something like that. Sort of like using the D.D.D.’s chat function,” she said, trying to recover. His all capslock messages were now a thing of legend.

But ‘little’ anything now immediately made her think of Asmodeus and she was trying to take this time to not think of any demon problems right now.

“Was it the ‘little’ you disliked?” he asked, his voice mesmerizingly calm to her ears. “Luke is also quite preoccupied with that.”

“I am not!” Luke said, from his place near her toes.

“Hmm,” Simeon continued on, ignoring Luke’s outburst. 

“My lamb, no, too familiar. Lammy?” he said, before seeing Chris wrinkle her nose, “Lambchop? That doesn’t seem right either...”

She couldn’t help but laugh at that one.

“Aha. He said as he pointed at her. “You laughed, I get away with it. Lambchop it is!”

Chris looked back and forth between the two of them. For the first time ever, she could honestly say that Simeon looked smug. 

Luke, was a child let in on a magical secret, hands clamped over his mouth as he tried not to giggle. He was a dignified angel after all, reported to Archangel Michael, himself!  
  
She tossed her hands up as best she could while still laying on her side. “I admit defeat! Lambchop it is.”

They were still all smiling when Luke took up the forgotten explanation.

“The other pantheons were how humans explain different phenomena. They often confused angels, demons, and other spirits, and even just plain magic or weather patterns for gods.”

'That seems plausible,' she thought, nodding along. “Wait, spirits?” she asked. “I met the ghost of a witch once; She was quite nice. Is ghost just another word for spirit or is this complicated like the subclassifications of demonhood?”

She popped another “forbidden meatball” in her mouth and hoped the answer wouldn’t be nearly as messy as her history book made everything out to be.

“Well, there are many sub-types of spirits,” Simeon began.

Chris threw her free arm over her eyes. “Noooo. No more homework. Only cake,” she said.

Simeon laughed, and it filled the room. She peeked out from under her arm to watch him. 'He really is lovely. Are all angels this pretty?' she wondered.

“I won’t cover the subtypes, because even with the categories, humans still often confuse them when they shift forms.”

She sat bolt upright. “No!” she said in disbelief, dragging out the word. Normally she would have added a ‘shut the fuck up,’ but somehow it didn’t seem like it would fit here with them.

“There is a middle ground between angels and devils, and even they get extra forms too? Oh, this is absolute bullshit. Are they stronger than humans too?” she asked, forgetting not to swear.

They weren’t quite sure what to do with her when she grumped. Usually she was full of sass, self-deprecating, or being kind - dissatisfaction was a new shade of Chris they had not seen before.

With a hesitance she didn’t usually associate with him either, Simeon nodded his head.

“Oooh. That is so unfair. Why do non-magical humans have to be the French Bulldogs of the three realms. If we cough too hard we could crack our own ribs, but I bet you two could leap tall buildings in a single bound, or punch through walls.” She really was trying not to sulk, but she couldn’t quite get her lips to stop pressing together into a firm line. It had been a very trying few weeks, and even angels couldn’t undo that stress in only a few hours.

A look passed between Simeon and Luke. First confusion, then something else.

She watched as Luke stood up without any preamble, and walked over to Simeon, before he was unceremoniously hurled into the wall and fireplace behind her.

Alarm bells were going off now. 'Oh, I knew I couldn’t trust anyone here at all!' She flipped over and scrambled to her feet to collect Luke’s crumpled form only to find…nothing.

Actually, she hadn’t heard a crash or even a thump. Where was he? She scanned the room for him.

Then, there he was, just walking through the wall like he was mist pouring out of the wood paneling!

Chris stayed put, still half way between sitting and standing, balanced on one knee and mouth agape. Her head was cocked to the side in confusion, like the little French bulldog she’d just been proven to be.

“Cherubs are ephemeral,” Luke said, with a cheeky smile. He had the nerve to give her jazz hands.

She blinked for a moment, and then stood, taking his hands in hers and patting him down, checking he was alright in much the way he had done to her when they were reunited during Diavolo’s retreat.

He shied away, back towards Simeon’s side, claiming ticklishness, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

'Oh ho! I will never forget that if he misbehaves. I'll threaten to tell Barbatos or Mammon,' she thought. Both were terrible for their own reasons.

Turning around, to look at Simeon, she asked, “Can I assume then that means angels have different forms too? The same way demons seem to have more horns, or tails, or claws…or scales sometimes and not others?”

“Precisely so,” Simeon said. “Although I’m surprised that you’ve seen scales. You’d have to provoke quite the emotional response to see that, unless, that is, they've been walking around in their true forms at home.”

Chris really did try not to feel bratty about how matter-of-fact his answer was, but it didn’t stop her lips from pursing to one side, just a little sullenly.

“No, they’re pretty good about it,” she said, muttering around her tight lips. 

They watched as she shifted her weight from side to side with uncertainty. Her hands rested, crossed over her midriff. 

‘Would it be impolite to ask?’ she wondered. ‘Well, it’s not like I'll ever meet any demons or angels after this. It'll likely be my only chance.’

“Can I see both of your forms?” she asked.

It was their turn to look stunned. 

“And here I thought we’d never get to Truth or Dare,” Simeon said with a wry smile.

‘Another unexpected modernity he knew of, and yet he still couldn’t figure out that shirts were supposed to cover more than half the torso,’ Chris thought, her lips finally unscrunching from her envy. 

Luke looked to Simeon for guidance. They were almost equal heights when Simeon was sitting.

“We cannot know the plans of God, they are beyond our comprehension, but he made our forms as they are so that we may function in his plan. If that is the case then it cannot be a bad thing to let her see,” Simeon said.

‘Excellent!’ she thought. ‘No, wait! Didn’t everyone get their faces melted from the Ark of the Covenant and they could only look at burning bushes or something to avoid it?’ Her eyes darted between them rapidly. “Should I be worried this will scald my eyes, or burn out my soul or something?” she asked. Suddenly she didn’t feel as confident as she had before.

Simeon tried to hide his laugh.

She could tell by the way his shoulders surged up and forward as if he were about to squirt milkshake out his nose. 'Apparently, that was not what he was expecting me ask,' she thought. 

A scratching noise drew their attention to the rest of the room behind them, but there was nothing except the wind rattling the curtain.

The moment broken, Luke took that as his cue. He glanced uncomfortably away from her for only a moment before he transformed. 

She had to admit, after realizing he could ghost through walls, she’d expected something more, but it was just Luke with a small, white tunic and wings. 

He floated without needing to flutter, and he spun for her when she twirled her finger in a circle. 

‘Four wings,’ she noted. Two stretched upwards, and two folded over to cover his body from waist to below the hem of his tiny toga. 

Standing and walking around him, she touched the bow in his hand and asked, “Why did you need me to protect you if you’re like this?” On closer inspection, she realized that he had a quiver as well, carefully slung between his upper wings and over his shoulder. 'Maybe that was the wrong thing to say. It could have been that he was frightened,' she thought.

“Luke may be a cherub,” Simeon said, choosing his words with care, “and he has his own order of cherubim to instruct and direct, but he is still young by angel years.”

“That doesn’t really explain much,” Chris said, gesturing at the fireplace. “He can go through walls.”

He was still floating and Chris had to reach above her head to touch the delicate, golden circlet that rested above Luke’s brow. Alighting on the floor, he wiggled the point of his golden sandal behind him shyly into the pile of the carpet.

It was hard to tell, but she thought he must have something heavy tied to the golden cord around his waist. But it was hidden from view by his lower wings, and debauched though her mind may be she was certainly above asking a child to show what’s under their wings. 

“Lucifer was one of the seven great seraphim,” Luke said so sadly that it almost broke Chris’ heart to hear it. “Even the emotion he had that birthed Wrath would be powerful enough to destroy me without physically touching me.” His shoulders were slumped, and he wouldn’t look at her, only at a spot somewhere down and to his right.

She nodded her understanding. “Well, I’ll just always have to be there, then,” she said. “At least until you’re the strongest angel there is!”

He smiled bashfully at her cheerful declaration, and she pinched his cheeks. “You’re so cute I could just eat you up!”

Embarrassed he swatted her away, and returned to his former outfit, his golden toenails the last to disappear. 

Before she could indicate to Simeon that it was his turn to put on a show, the rough scratching noise returned.

“That’s weird. I’m not the only one hearing that, right?” Chris asked, her wariness not yet fully soothed even amongst angels. Who could blame a human in the Devildom?

“There it is again,” Luke said, motioning towards his bed. He walked past Chris and Simeon, with Chris following at what she assumed was a safe distance.

“It’s just an arachnid,” he said, while looking down at it from atop his bed. He made shoo-ing motions with his hands at something between him and the wall. “You belong outside,” he said trying to coax it away.

“A what now?” Chris asked, creeping closer to the shuffling and clicking noise. 

“Oh, HELL NO!” she said, immediately backing away. She wasn’t afraid of spiders, but that thing was not a spider. That was some sort of furry, eight-legged hell beast.

It’s many-eyed gaze met hers and the race was on. 

Luke gave out a childish, “Hey!” in admonishment to his new arachnid friend when it disappeared under the bed, and Simeon stood up from his place on the rug.

It shot out from under the frame and made a straight shot for her.

‘Fuck this thing! Does it track using fear or just seek and destroy fresh meat? Why is it only bothering me?’ She turned tail and fled towards the door. “Nope. Nope. Nope. Nope.” she said, and skidded to a halt at the door. ‘Stupid!’ she repeated to herself. ‘Don’t make it harder to be rescued by leaving the room.’ She turned back around to reassess. It was using its hook-clawed digits to grasp the weave of the oriental rugs and propel itself even faster towards her. 

Chris was not above using furniture as if the floor were lava at this point. A console table became an emergency pommel horse, and she propelled herself ungracefully onto a decorative poof. This was not going well.

“Why aren’t you doing anything?” she asked, her words warbled ouot between laboured breaths. “This is some next level bullshit!”

Simeon and Luke looked on in confusion.

That was it, if they weren’t going to move to help her, she’d just have to help herself.

Instead of rushing past and back to the relative safety of the bed as she’d planned, Chris feinted, and zig-zagged back to the chaise lounge. That only served to give the chalicerated beast a chance to close the distance. It could pivot so much better than her.

‘Time for a leap of faith,’ she thought. ‘Please work!’

“Catch!” she shouted, as she bounced off of the chaise, planted her feet on the coffee table, and surged up and onto a very surprised Simeon.

And then everything was calm, even as she peeked around wing tips to see Luke frantically chasing his arachnid, like a child would a pet chicken.

Chris huffed, and tried to take stock of how she had landed. Poorly it seemed.

‘Did I actually jump this high or did I just get jostled higher somehow when he decided to put on a light show?’ she wondered. 

One leg dangling down Simeon’s back between his three pairs of wings, she was perched, straddling his shoulder with her hands clutched in his wavy hair. 

‘This would definitely not be possible if he were human,’ she thought. ‘We would have tipped over for sure… and been eaten by the realm’s ugliest, and fastest, spider.’

“Would you like to come down now?” Simeon asked, his voice more gentle than ever. He hadn’t realize humans could jump quite so high.

She breathed out a sigh, and with it the last of her turmoil from the whole week. She’d had tiring days, but nothing could be more ridiculous than this day had been. At least she had on clean underwear.

A rending, squishy noise turned Chris' attention away from the exceptionally soft hair between her fingers.

Luke had rent the spider in half and it slowly turned to ash in his fists.

“I’ll get the broom and pan,” he said, hiding his sheepish blush by tipping the rim of his cap lower.

“Maybe we should have just played Truth or Dare after all,” Chris said tiredly as Simeon carefully returned her feet to the carpet below.


	7. 18.7 - Bedtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris turns in for the night and Luke is restless

## 18.7 - Bedtime

Nothing would devour her, or her soul, while she slumbered. Simeon had solemnly promised so, though Chris had not asked him to.

Luke looked like he would try to fight anything that looked at her wrong. Then again, he also turned that look on Simeon when he suggested she take his room and the two Celestials bunk together.

Maybe it was that Simeon had looked pointedly at the short, chaise lounge when he’d said it, but the lack of an outburst from Luke was interesting. His eyes continued to flicker between her and the bed, as he come to some conclusion that made him pout.

'Maybe he's just too shy to ask for a cuddle?' she wondered. 'Do angels cuddle?'

Simeon disappeared to prepare the room for her while she and Luke put away the evidence of their feasting. She didn’t even notice he was gone until he had returned. The angels had moved so quickly before bringing the food up, she just assumed that in her tired state she hadn’t had enough wits left to comprehend his particular blur of motion with them on the stairs.

“You know, we all could just stay in here,” Chris said, testing her theory. “It’s not unusual in the human realm.”

“You’ve had a very boisterous and **crowded** adventure,” Simeon said before Luke could speak. “I’m sure you could use some time to yourself.” 

He was alluding to the tales from the previous day’s lunch, Chris was certain. 'Ugh. I sounded like we're all dating in every way except fucking,' she thought. Her tiredness masked any blush that would have spread on her cheeks and she gave a sleepy nod. His proposal was both sensible and tempting.

“Besides,” he stage whispered to her, “Luke’s snores could wake the dead.”

“They do not! I mean I do not!” Luke said, his denial emphatic.

That still managed to draw a smile from her.

She covered a yawn with her hand as she toddled one door down the hall after Simeon.

Kindly, he had laid out bed clothes for her, and on the nightstand she saw a frosted glass with a small candle in it. 'How thoughtful of him.' Here candles were for ambiance, but for her they'd become medieval nightlights. 

“Wait!” she called out as the two turned to file back out of the room. “Nothing else will come through the windows, right?”

“There are wards of favour and protection on the windows,” Luke said with confidence before he bashfully looked away. “It was our fault for leaving the window open.” 

She breathed an audible sigh of relief, but he looked so guilty. She couldn’t help but reassure him with her best smile, no matter how tired she felt. “Then, I’ll be very safe.” she said with a nod.

Simeon herded Luke out of the room, tutting at him, “Unless you wanted to tuck Chris in then we had better get some sleep ourselves.”

The bright red tips of Luke’s ears, and Simeon’s bare shoulders, were the last she saw of them as she closed the door.

‘Fuck pajamas,’ she thought. For once, Asmodeus was right on the money. She had been overheating in extra layers, and next to extra bodies, for quite some time. It would be nice to just stretch out in a cool bed.

She slipped under the covers and gloried in the freedom. No need to lock her door, or check her D.D.D. for unexpected guests barging in and stealing cuddles, or snacks, or batteries for remote controls. 

Surely Simeon would forgive her this one little misdemeanor. 

Only the faintest trickle of her pacts could be sensed when she reached out, but she didn’t want to look at them too closely in case she accidentally pulled them to her. That might be a little less forgivable for Simeon.

She fell asleep to a mixture of unrelated thoughts. Remembering the way the blue light seemed to shift and swirl under Simeon’s skin, how his eyes seemed to glow even brighter, how the last stand at the Red Cliffs ended during the third sleep of the king, and how she wished for the calm purr of a cat to lull her to sleep.

Eventually a deep and peaceful slumber found her.

* * *

Simeon had long since dropped off. He had offered to share the bed with Luke, since he was tall, not wide, but Luke had, uncharacteristically, opted for the chaise Chris had earlier used as a trampoline.

He wondered at it briefly, before deciding that Luke likely wanted to be nearer to the door, in case Chris needed anything in the night. It was for the best then, as he recalled that humans were exceptionally good at getting lost in new places. With wards in place, and a tiny guard dog at the human's beck and call, Simeon nodded off.

Luke, however, stayed wide awake. When he was certain Simeon was fully asleep, he reverted to his lowest angelic form, the one he had shown to Chris earlier. Floating silently, he paced the darkened room.

'Should I? Shouldn’t I? Clearly she is a worthy human. A worthy being, even,' he thought, struggling again with this plan. Today he'd her take the lead again when under attack. She had assessed the situation immediately and taken evasive actions. She’d done her best with the two dimensions available to her, and finally even used her surroundings to take on a dimension usually only frequented by his kin and birds. All while he had stared dumbly, again. 'I only found a way to be useful when she forcefully asked why I wasn’t doing anything.'

He sighed. He’d invited her here to show her his gratitude and instead he’d failed her again.

Day in and day out, she showed him up: she’d managed to somehow soften a number of demons and Solomon (who might as well be a demon), Simeon showed her respect, even Lord Diavalo had acknowledged her by giving her special accommodations, and she’d stood up to the fury of the fallen morning star. 

She wasn’t Michael; but, to him she was almost the human equivalent. He couldn’t be jealous at all. He just wished he could catch up to her courage. 

Luke covered his face in his hand, dragging it across and down in consternation.

He couldn’t even imagine what it had taken for her to shield him in the crypt. She had nothing. It was like a soft, fluffy cloud had thrown itself between him and a raging fire.

In comparison, there was no strength to her, or even ability to weather the devouring flames of Lucifer's ire. She was a gnat that Lucifer could have flicked to death with a single finger. There was nothing to keep her safe except good will and luck.

He’d been mulling it over ever since that day. 'Should I?' He knew he could, but then it had only been theoretical and now, now the unimaginable opportunity had landed in his lap. Another opportunity like this wouldn’t present itself, he was certain.

‘The process is so much easier with babies,’ he thought, and then grimaced, ‘Then again, it was because I thought like that that Achilles wasn't fully blessed.’

He was decided. ‘She is a worthy human to receive the full ritual blessing,’ he thought, nodding to himself in the dark for encouragement. ‘I may not be as worthy to bestow it as I’d like but it’s all that I can offer her here in this place.’

As he passed through the wall separating their rooms, Luke briefly wondered if he could find a way to smuggle her home with him at the end of the exchange. 'No, Simeon would know. He always knows somehow,' he thought, trying not to frown as he poked his head through the adjoining wall.


	8. 18.8 - Slumber, Pacts, and Benediction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herein we learn a bit more about Luke's past and his wishes for the future.

## 18.8 - Slumber, Pacts, and Benediction

Luke peeked cautiously through the wall. Once again, he was thankful that he didn’t need to flap to remain aloft as man other angels did.

Assured by her breathing that Chris was still asleep, he glided silently the rest of the way into her borrowed room.

Setting down his bow on the floor, and as quietly as he could, he unslung his quiver to join it. They were used only for defense now, but it was important to bring them here to Devildom; They could certainly still inflict damage, in one way or another, and no demon could be trusted fully.

'More disappointments,' he thought, before shaking off the negative emotions he kept tied to the weapons. 'I need to be in the right mindset for this to work. I can't be thinking of all the ways humans have managed to squander, or destroy, the unconditional love they've received from my arrows.'

Tristan and Isolde: dying alone because of their families’ pride or jealousy; Paris and Helen: an entire war complete with human sacrifices all because of first pride, and then greed, for land and trade routes. Even Napoleon and Josephine had managed to let dynastic pride separate them. He had thrown in the towel to study directly under Michael instead. It would be vanity and pride that did them all in.

He hung his head and shook out the pernicious thoughts. ‘Lux, agape, firmitas,’ he said to himself, repeating it as a mantra in his mind. 'This time it will be me who saves you, even if only in some small way.' 

His lower wings unfurled as he reached for the contents of the heavy pouch tied around his waist. ‘אוֹר, אהבה, כּוֹחַ ’

From it, he pulled a fist full of petals and ground seed powder, and just a pinch of concentrated valerian to tie it all together, bringing it to bear over Chris’s supine form. Gently, he released his grip to let the sleeping sand fall, flower petals spiraling more slowly around the stream to land on her cheeks and in her hair.

He knew he could have sent her to a deeper sleep with a touch of his hand to her crown, but the last thing he wanted to do was cause more strife in Chris’ mind. Phanuel’s struggle with Jacob was not the template to use here. 'I will lull her instead with softness, and warmth, and human plants,' he thought, smiling contentedly. 'A carefully crafted slumber, instead of by invasion and force, to facilitate healing and protection.' 

“By this candle thou shall sleep, hidden in this night so deep. Rest ye now til morning come, trust, and let thineself succumb,” he whispered in her ear.

He was satisfied that she was profoundly asleep; she would not wake while he encased her in blessings. It would be a protective ward she could carry with her without knowing. To her, just a little spring in her step.

Still, he hesitated, pressing his two pointer fingers together in front of his chest. 'Would the strength of his blessing outweigh the invasion of privacy?' he wondered, as a cold uncertainty squeezed around his stomache. 'Maybe I should just do a little dot of anointment: hands, feet, head, like the kings would receive... but she is greater than all of them. They would never have dare to challenge the Morning Star.'

He squeezed his eyes shut. He’d already come this far. It’s not like he’d never anointed anyone before. He just needed to get over his bashfulness and then leave her to her rest.

peeling back the covers to reveal her arm and - OH LORD ABOVE!

Both hands shot up to cover his eyes. Blushing from his toes to his hairline, he stripped one hand away at a time. 'I wasn't expecting naked!'

With determination, from where he'd accidentally flown, he lowered himself from floating above her. ‘This is no different from anointing, babies, or prophets, or kings, or emperors,' he thought before his brain filled in the rest. ‘It’s only your human saviour who is naked without so much as a fig leaf!’

‘Work mode. Work mode. This is no different than focusing on pouring baumkuchen or stacking croquembouche. Work mode. Just pretend like we’re teaching the anatomies to the youngest putto.’

Putting his blush aside, Luke unhooked the oil jar at his side and lifted the arm closest to him gently. He paused to bring the back of her hand to his cheek, and radiated the tiniest bit of angelic energy into her from his touch. It would keep her warm.

“Please forgive the intrusion,” he whispered before pouring the viscous liquid onto the tip of her finger. 

He let it slide to the juncture of her arm and body before re-hooking the jar, and gently scooping up any oil before it could fall away from her.

'This will be my best work yet. This won't be marred by fickleness, or waver because of my inattention,' he thought. He was sure of it and set to work.

The scent of myrrh, sweet cinnamon, Kaneh-bosem, and cassia rose to meet him as he lightly massaged it into the length of her arm.

“Sturdy of leg and fortified in heart, never may your great will be torn apart,” he said, forcing his words into truth.

He floated over her to repeat the process on her other arm. He stopped then, realizing he should have begun at her head. It would take the longest to set fully. 'Foolish of me! I was too wrapped up in my own feelings.' Carefully, he came to rest on the short headboard above her. 

‘Babies are so much easier,’ he thought again. ‘It’s not that Chris is heavy in any way, but she is definitely cumbersome with our size difference.’

‘Should I transform further?’ He considered it for only a second. ‘No, that would wake Simeon for certain.’

He carefully lifted her, pulling her into a sitting position as he slid down to sit himself behind her. Letting her recline, he lay her head onto his shoulder and began working the oil into her hair. He proceeded to buff it into her scalp, all down her back, and into the corners of her eyes where he knew her best smiles lived. He squelched oil in and around her ears and nose, massaging her face, and neck, and shoulders. 

“Fortune smile upon you, and your kith and kin. Forever and a day may this protect you from within,” he said, his face set in a serious expression reserved for only the most intricate pastry recipes. 

He knew that the holy oil would be absorbed before he could finish resting her gently back on the pillow. Other than the fading aroma of herbs, there would be no trace that she had been unconsentingly angel-handled by him, except for perhaps a greater health and firmness of limb. ‘Hopefully, for as long as she lives,’ he thought, wishing for it plaintively as he worked.

Laid to rest again, he tucked the covers up to her chin, then moved to expose her legs to her hips. They were next to be carefully smothered from stem to stern.

Despite his seriousness, he still had trouble looking exactly where he touched and when Chris gave a small sigh and tensed in her sleep he withdrew, fearfully.

‘She shouldn’t be able to stir,’ he thought, his brow furrowing. It didn't matter. This, his human saviour, would be the most well loved and protected human he had ever blessed. When he was certain she was still dormant he continued.

Rolling the blankets back down, he revealed her from her sweet, sleeping face to hip and he paused. There was a marking on her belly. 

‘It’s small and cute,’ he thought. Nothing like the tribal tattoos he used to see. Back then, they covered faces and chests and backs, cascaded down arms and circled legs like dark and colourful, symbolic armor. 

This was symmetrical and delicate instead. The lines were so fine, almost spidery in their strokes - a little warped and in some places the lines stuck out oddly. Some spots were darker than others, while the fading was obvious throughout, but it looked like it had been made with effort and love. Perfectly imperfect, just like his human. 

'Why didn't she tell me she had a protective sigil already?' he wondered. He finished appreciating it and skimmed past it. He had a job to do after all. 

“Your flesh and blood numbered as stars in the sky. Brilliant and abundant with nary a cry.”

She squirmed the tiniest bit when he found what he assumed was a ticklish spot. He paused only to shower her skin in powders and plant matter, both human and celestial. It must be done precisely and with care; not enough and the effect would be negligible, too much, and like any medicine, it could harm.

“I ask for tranquility of body and soul, give her stability and aid to remain whole.” 

It is only one of the many layers and many languages he had plated her in. He was nearly finished though.

Cornflowers for the eyes, comfrey to guard against venoms… Yellow Star Thistle, Hollyhock flower, powdered sea grape, the beads of the muscari, and ragwort. He cast them over her, overlapping layers and concentrating them over the points where they would be most potent.

They looked like black specks on her skin in the dim candle light, but as he sprinkled ash over her they all disappeared, the oil had drawn them inward.

“Her mind is now silent, quiet, and still, let my power's ambition now be fulfilled,” he whispered.

The last layer would be the remainder of his oil he realized. It was unexpected that such a small, adult human would need so much. He began the process again. 

The first oil to prime her flesh and sanctify, the herbals to cleanse and consecrate, the last oil to seal the protections in place. She would be happy and healthy all of the days of her life when she returned to her own realm. He was sure of it.

Here, though, he could not be certain: the sulphurous geysers she had to avoid on her walk to R.A.D., living with demons, the food of Devildom, everything here was still a danger, but if this gave her even a sliver of advantage then he would make sure it was hers.

He smothered his squeal of alarm as Chris re-adjusted in her sleep, turning and bringing her arms around to sigh and cuddle him like some sort of plush toy. ‘Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic!’

Absolutely still, with his thoughts incessantly shouting at him to flee, very, very carefully, he reached into a side pouch to draw out a balm. Maneuvering carefully, he daubed the tart cherry and magnolia salve between the points of her brow. His own body went slack with relief when he felt her breathing on his forearm change. When the rest of her went limp again, he breathed a sigh of his own. 

His concentration for imbuing protection died with the rapid rise of his incredulity. ‘How can a normal human continue to stir?’ he wondered, his eyes sweeping over her frantically. ‘Even her enduring spirit and courage shouldn’t be able to withstand so many veils of sleep! The protection wards and strengthening charms alone would be enough to daze a human into stupor!’

The limp arm slung over him and his wings made it difficult to wriggle away. ‘This is so undignified!’ he thought, as he rested his head against her sternum, trying not to look at her breasts. 'I'm wasting time!' 

He shuffled his way down the bed, but then he was face to face with her tattoo. He pushed himself backwards to take it in, and investigate it properly. He’d had no trouble touching the poorly drawn sigil. It hadn’t repelled him when he’d touched it before. 'Is this what is allowing her to continue stirring?' he wondered.

Faintly, very faintly, he thought he could sense at least some of the demon lords. ‘Disgusting of them to brand their pact in to her,’ he thought. They **would** be so cruel. Yet, somehow the sigil seemed familiar, as if he should recognize it. 'It doesn't matter. I need to finish this before she wakes up. Or before Simeon wakes up!'

Experimentally, and out of her grasp, Luke grazed his thumb along the underside of her breast. Without delay, a thin strand of energy flared around the seal’s edge. Chris subtly shifted her thighs before the energy was syphoned inward to the centre of the tattoo. 

Asmodeus, he realized and wrinkled his nose. 

Focusing a tiny fizzle of his power into the finger, he traced the emblem. He used no more than he had earlier used to warm her through her hand. Luke watched as Chris gave a breathy mumble in her sleep. When he glanced back to her belly he was amazed to watch as his golden light circled the design and lit up its inner lines. It glowed faintly and then fanned out into the rest of her body.

He wasn’t sure how to deal with this. This wasn’t something that ever came up in his studies or experience, and he was well versed in sigils and protections.

How could he finish the recipe if there was a hole in the middle of the cake? ‘Bundt cakes are still delicious,’ he thought. 'I just need to alter some ratios and ingredients to make this work.'

'If I seal everything now, will she react...unbecomingly again?' he wondered, and his cheeks reddened more than he thought possible.

To his knowledge, there was no way his benediction would alter the pacts

He closed his hands around her open palm, and rested his head there, just taking a moment to breathe and think while lying next to her. Absorbing the way she existed as he tried to think up complementary ingredients and methods. 'This won’t be poorly thought out and careless. I can do this,' he thought. 'I was a commander of cherubim and reported directly to Michael. This would be a blessing of which even Michael will be proud!'

Travel to the kitchen would be necessary, but he was quite certain he had everything required in the house.

After fading through the bed and down through the floor, Luke was abashed to realize that his previous panic had kept him from simply phasing out of Chris’ grasp. He rushed to his task to abandon his own condemnation. There would be time for that later. 

Mortar and pestle in hand, he pounded out a thin pulp. He would wash it all in the morning. For now, he would re-ascend quickly to apply it while Chris still slept.  
  
Returning to his previous post, Luke slowly, and carefully, applied the paste to each line of the tattoo and watched as the spider-thin lines thickened minutely. The fading was no longer quite so noticeable in some places and the errant lines were the tiniest bit smoother. 'I may not be able to protect her from the energies flowing through it, but at the very least I can stabilize it,' he thought. 'Perhaps make it even a bit easier to dissipate the infesting energy.' 

Demons were not to be trusted; He truly hoped this would help protect her from them in some way.

It was like putting a bouquet of flowers in the middle of a cake with an unexpected hole in it. Not the icing he had been hoping for, but now he knew he had made the right choice. Perhaps their heavenly father had ordained his rash decision after all.

He returned to the task at hand, the last coat. This time he was prepared for her impulsive movements and sounds and finished his work efficiently. 

Everything absorbed and set, Luke collecting a spare pillow from the wardrobe and pressed it into her arms where she greedily snuggled it. Having safely tucked her in for the remainder of the night, he smoothed back her hair and chastely kissed her brow.

“Sleep well, Chris,” he whispered before collecting his weapons. He glided back to his room and his place on the couch. “May your days be long and filled with love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those wondering what was in the impromptu seal goop: Angelica root, bay leaf, birch bark, cedar sap, thyme, honey, and yarrow leaf.


	9. 18.9 - Celestial Mantles and Human Sarcasm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke tries not to choke on his own alarm and pancakes while Simeon makes small talk with Chris over breakfast.

## 18.9 - Celestial Mantles and Human Sarcasm

As the candle guttered out, Chris woke to the semi-darkness that marked the daylight hours of Devildom. She felt more rested than she had in ages, stretching leisurely before proceeding to snuggle back into the pillows.

Her D.D.D. on the bedside table indicated it was past 8A.M. now. A few messages from Levi asked why she missed the raid, but nothing else. 

It was earlier than she was used to rising on a Saturday, but probably time for her to thank her hosts and take her leave. Standing, Chris pulled on her dress from the previous day. She rubbed at the sides of her arms. ‘It is always so chilly in the mornings in Devildom,’ she thought, shivering under the cold fabric. 'I should have pulled it in to bed with me first to warm it up.' 

She combed her fingers through her hair in the hopes of taming her bed head somewhat but there was no mirror for her to check. 'Well, they get what they get. I'm sure angels have seen worse. Although, I'd prefer Solomon not see me with clown hair.'

Opening the door, she stepped on something fuzzy and hopped back.

‘Not a spider,’ she noted happily, clutching at her heart. It was some sort of blanket? Scarf? She picked it up and unfolded it, finding a note inside. “Wear me!” it said.

She had to admit, falling into the Devildom had been much like Alice falling into Wonderland. The directive was cause for concern.

If she had found it at school there was no way she would have put it on, and let it strangle her to death, or vanish her into some other plane of existence, but here, the most she had to worry about was Solomon in the presence of Simeon and Luke.

It was remarkably soft. She wrapped the shawl around her shoulders and most of the chill fled from her quickly. 'Clearly magic,' she thought as she made her way to the kitchen where she found Simeon and Luke already preparing breakfast. Still stuffed from the previous day’s snackathon, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to eat any more.

So far, Solomon was nowhere to be seen. She avoided trying to reach out and find him through Asmodeus, or even by himself, that seemed like asking for trouble.

“This is a beautiful shawl,” she said by way of a morning greeting.

“Simeon made it!” Luke called out cheerfully from the stovetop though still intently looking at his work.

She was impressed. 

“Yes, I have been experimenting with the fabric arts,” he said casually and gestured to a corner table stacked tall with different coloured and textured fabrics, “I’m glad it is getting good use.”

She reached out to touch a purple and black bolt of fabric, but before she could, Simeon had left his batter making station to use his hand as a barrier between her and the cloth. 

“This particular one I made with Devildom plant fibers” he said in response to her confusion. "It might not be wholly safe for human skin.”

  
In a blink, he was back at Luke’s side. “Feel free to touch any of the ones on the left,” he said, with his usual friendly smile. “They have a lower Devildom threadcount, or are somewhat neutralized by the celestial threads.”

Chris politely squeezed a few but she had no appetite for chemically burning herself this early in the morning. Instead, she returned to stand at the kitchen bar, delighted to find a coffee waiting for her. If possible, her shoulders relaxed even further as she soaked in the aroma.

While she was busy communing with her new best friend, coffee, a stack of pancakes appeared. She eyed it warily. A nibble and she was in heaven. They were REAL pancakes, not whatever had been made for her first breakfast at the House of Lamentation. She was sure there had been newt in it that day.

Smoothing the shawl and her skirt under her thighs as she sat down properly at the counter, she peered over to watch the pancake creation until Luke was done. 

As they all dug in, Chris noticed that the fabric of her borrowed shall was now gently resting against her ankles. She frowned in confusion after realizing she was able to fold it over her lap. 'Wonderland indeed.'

She swallowed another bite of buttery pancake before speaking. “Simeon,” she said, with trepidation and question in her voice, “I think I stretched out your shawl.”

Her contrite expression must have been funny to him because he laughed at her outright. It was warm and rich. She tried not to let her heart flutter at it. ‘Why are they all so damn pretty?’ she wondered with frustration.

It didn't really matter, he was happy, and she liked how often he laughed around her now. 

“It is primarily Celestial made,” he explained,gesturing with a fork-full of pancake. “It should be able to expand enough to cover a human, king sized bed if needed.”

Chris tried to play it cool and gather it up at the sides, a bit alarmed at its expansion, but she couldn’t stop grinning like an idiot. ‘Magic! Useful, warm, safe magic!’ her mind shouted.

  
“It should react to the needs of the wearer,” Simeon explained between bites, and his bare shoulders rose again as he tried to hold in his mirth at her wonder. “It will shrink up, or reduce its thickness, when your thin human skin warms up enough.”

She shot him a saucier look than she’d expected to use this early in the morning. “Are you saying this paltry human has only a meager layer of skin?” 

Her mock outrage obvious to Simeon was utterly lost on Luke. He looked panic stricken between his senior and his human saviour. 

His thoughts raced, ‘Should I say something? But it’s about her skin. It might give me away! But she thought she wasn’t beautiful before too! Heavens above. We can’t have her going around thinking these things. The demons will eat her for lunch with those types of doubts! But how am I even going to look her in the eyes now?’

With his distracted forking, his plate was beginning to look more like scrambled eggs than a stack of pancakes. He looked up from the less than appealing porridge he was making when he heard their duet of laughter.

Luke sighed, looking down once more at his mutilated pancake. One day he’d get the hang of sarcasm.


	10. 18.10 - Little Spoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris safely arrives home and determines what to do with the remainder of her day.

## 18.10 - Little Spoon

The walk back to the House of Lamentation was uneventful and pleasant. With Simeon on one side of her, Luke on the other, and a cozy celestial shoulder covering there was little that could go wrong.

Luke had kept her from smelling the Cuphea flowers, and accidentally having her nose bitten off, and not once had she stumbled on the uneven paving stones in her stable shoes, maybe they were enchanted too.

They paused to watch the drawbridge near Diavolo’s castle rise and fall again, allowing the magma barges to pass, and then the foot traffic, and the swift dragonhorses. 

All in all a beautiful morning, even without the sun. 

They had delivered her to the door, and didn’t leave until she had safely closed it behind her, assured in the completion of their duties as her accidental guardians.

Simeon hadn’t let her return the shawl, and said he’d have to take her home to Purgatory Hall with it if she didn’t agree.

'Cheeky Angel!'

* * *

It was halfway back to Purgatory Hall when Luke stumbled over the uneven cobblestone of the road, faceplanting in his terrified stupor.

Simeon helped him up and helped him to dust off. "Is everything all right?" Simeon asked. 'Is he truly that worried for Chris?'

"Yes, I'm fine," Luke said, pulling on his armor of indignation to cover the way his voice wavered.

"Very well."

Luke could still feel Simeon's eyes on him, weighing and judging him. 'Does he know?' He could feel his heart pounding, practically bouncing the cravat off his chest. 'It doesn't matter, how could I have forgotten THAT? That of all things!'

"I will miss her company as well, however, we'll see her again in classes shortly," Simeon said, attempting to console the child-like angel at his side.

'Oh Heavenly Father,' he thought, 'He thinks I just miss her. What am I going to do? Should I tell Simeon? Should I research this first? What did I do? Solomon is as bad as a demon!'

The rest of the way home, Luke continued to kick himself, replaying how his panic and fear had stolen his ability to think, his ability to transform out of her grasp, and even his ability to recognize one of the most well known, and privileged sigils ever bestowed: Solomon's seal.

'I'm going to have to make more sigils to counteract it!' he decided.

* * *

Trudging to the kitchen with one very large basket, and a second, smaller basket, Chris began to wonder where her loyalties lay in all of this.

She had to believe that she could trust all of them, at least to some degree, but her studies in the history of the Devildom (and of Earth) suggested that was not the safest bet: guard dogs could still bite the hand that fed, and even the most honourable Praetorian guards had murdered their own emperors.

Lifting the largest basket on to the countertop wasn’t an easy feat, despite how easily Simeon has swung it at his side. She left a note on it for Beelzebub and slinked quietly to her room with her own snack basket. 

Subterfuge, emotions, pacts, and beauty and the beast-esque prisonerhood could wait until later. Right now she just needed to change out of yesterday’s clothing and possibly shower; she’d eaten so many sweets last night that she felt sticky with it.

The house seemed empty and lifeless. No raucous games of keep away, no harrying of Satan while he tried to read, no Levi partially transformed in his pajamas, only the light clip of her shoes on the floor.

She couldn’t wait to get changed and flop on her bed. She felt excellent, but at the same time she almost missed the resonance between her and her demons when they were near. Maybe she’d ask Levi to let her watch anime with him today, or just read manga near him in companionable silence. He’d have to forgive her for skipping the raid eventually.

Then again, now might be the best time to reach out to Satan, or even Solomon, about the feedback she’d been receiving from the pacts and demons in general. That brush with the other levels of hell still echoed in her mind now that the angels and their calming auras had departed. 

Had she been feeling all of the denizens of Hell as they sped past?

She swung open her door, and had meant to set down the snacks on the entry table to her right, but there was a plate with a single slice of pizza on it.

'Beel,' she thought. He always managed to surprise her with his sweetness, and in this case his restraint.

There was little point to turning on the lights if she was just going to shuck out of her clothes and rest, but as she stubbed her toe on the post of the bed she reconsidered that. And then continued to reconsider more strenuously when she heard a grumbled huff come from her bed.

She flicked her D.D.D. on to shine quickly across the bed, only to find Beelzebub. He’d managed to angle himself diagonally across it so that he could sleep stretched out.

Shaking her head, she moved to her wardrobe and changed into her pajamas. He slept like the dead. ‘Likely something to do with his closeness to Belphegor,’ she thought. If she really wanted to, she could probably do aerobics naked in here and he’d never notice. She tossed yesterday’s clothes in the bin, and rescued her underpants from the poor book bag.

Stalking quietly toward her bed, she whispered into her shawl, asking it politely to cover her bed and then some, before she cast it out like a fuzzy net. To her delight it did. She was glad no one could see her goofy ‘it’s magic’ smile.

'Beel looks too so cute bundled up like that. I'm going have to skip gaming today with Levi,' she thought. Careful not to wake him, she slid in to the bed. Fixing her D.D.D. to its low light settings, she snapped a selfie of them together. 'Hello new background photo!'

‘For once I’ll be the little spoon instead of someone’s pillow!’ she thought, as Beelzebub instinctively moved to curl his frame around her.


End file.
